Summer's End
by The Moonlily
Summary: Vampires rarely loved. When they did, it went deep. A story of Krolock's one human lover, and what happened to him. Krolock/OC, inspired by Die Unstillbare Gier. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Summer's End

**Rating: **M for the later chapters

**Genre: **Drama/Romance/Fluff/Angst

**Disclaimer: **Graf von Krolock, Herbert and Tanz der Vampire belong to Roman Polanski, Jim Steinman and Michael Kunze. This is a piece of fanfiction, written purely for the fun and enjoyment of myself and others. I gain no financial profit by writing this.

**Summary: **_Vampires rarely loved. When they did, it went deep._ A story of Krolock's one human lover, and what happened to him. Krolock/OC, inspired by _Die Unstillbare Gier._

**A/N: **I often find myself wondering about the humans Krolock talks about in _Die Unstillbare Gier. _Who they were, how they came to know the Count, and what happened to them in the end. This is a story of one such human, inspired by the idea of Napoleon's pageboy. It is potentially slightly canon-breaking, but I've tried to follow the canon as well as I've could – I guess I can just say that the characters kind of took over and this is what came out of it.

Chapters will mostly be short-ish, as I felt that choice of style seemed fitting for this particular story.

This will be slash, so if that's not your cup of tea, consider yourself warned. Also, any reviews and comments are appreciated!

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><p><em>Und des Kaisers Page aus Napoleons Troß... <em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

After being turned into a vampire, Count Johannes von Krolock rarely left his castle. If he did, it was usually to find someone to drink – either for himself and Herbert, or for his undead flock. There were times when the walls of his home seemed to fall over him and all he wanted was to tear it all down, but for the most of time, it was a safe haven for him. Humans don't often get to experience and realize it in the full, but for vampires, the change was never-ending. Vampires saw empires rise and fall, the old ways being laid to rest and forgotten, and saw how the world changed. For vampires like Herbert, it was exciting. Krolock, however, gazed into the past and times long gone. That was the reason he relished in the quiet timelessness of his home. Even if the world kept changing, the castle always remained the same – just as him.

Still, there were times he just needed to get out. Feel the cool night air fill his nose and lungs, smell all the scents of the forest around his home. He might take a midnight flight – one part of being a vampire he rather liked – or just walk and let his feet take him where they will.

The night when the Count found _him, _was one of such times. Herbert was being somewhat too noisy and exhilarated, and the faces and voices of his underlings would not stop irritating him. He wished for solitude and although his castle was full of quiet lonely places now, the forest, as ever, seemed the best place for escape. Perhaps a brisk walk and feeding on some poor peasant would improve his mood.

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><p>Dawn was only couple of hours away when he returned, well-fed and not as ill-humoured as he had been when leaving. Landing near his castle, he decided there was still some time for a short walk. He knew his attire was wind-blown and not nearly as groomed as Herbert would like, but such things always slipped one's mind when one was flying.<p>

He was not far from the gates of his home when he heard the slightest of noises. The Count turned his head sharply, listening to that lingering quiet just before dawn. His keen hearing quickly focused on quick breaths and small moans of a human coming from somewhere near. Krolock did not make it his habit to concern himself with the matters of humans, unless he was in the need of blood or something else (and more physical), but this time, something made him move and awoke his curiousity – something that did not happen often. And of course, as the Master of the castle, he ought to know who was walking his lands.

The man was young and haggard. His brown hair had grown long and tangled and a bushy beard covered a face that might otherwise be considered comely. His green eyes and full lips were something to make young maidens weep themselves into sleep. He was not as tall as the Count was, but he was lean and wiry, although he looked somewhat malnourished. His clothes were torn and tattered, but Krolock still recognized a soldier's attire. And there, on the young man's right side, was a wound that, though old and covered by filthy linen, pierced the vampire's nose with the inviting smell of blood.

The soldier looked at the Count with desperate eyes that might have broken a lesser man's heart, and with a weak _aidez-moi,_ he fell down in snow.

Krolock stood over the young soldier for a long while, thinking what to do. He could easily leave the man there – he'd die soon enough in the cold and make a fine meal for the wolves. The Count was not obliged to help, after all. And anyway, the stranger would probably just cause trouble: he was a mortal and wounded one at that. Someone might find him just too tempting of a meal...

But in the end, all his reasoning didn't mean anything. Throwing caution in the wind, Krolock picked the young man up and carried him inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Here comes the second chapter, in which we get a closer look on this mysterious stranger by the door of Castle von Krolock. As always, comments are appreciated!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The halls of the castle were quiet and empty when Krolock brought the young soldier inside.

Once, when he had still been human and his wife had lived, Castle von Krolock had bustled and brimmed with life. Managing it had been laborius business, but somehow his wife had always held all the threads in her hands. It all had changed with her death.

After becoming a vampire, mad with bloodlust and the grief over loosing her, he had killed several of their servants. Some of those who had survived had fled, fearing for their lives. Others had stayed, either for the loyalty to the House of Krolock or from sheer fear. When Herbert had been growing up, the Count had always kept at least some human servants, mostly because he didn't want his son all surrounded by vampires.

But that had been long ago, and now the only living soul in the castle was the deaf man who managed all business Krolock himself could not take care of. And, after all, the castle needed someone watching it during day hours when he and his flock were resting in their graves.

As such, there were many rooms empty and unused. Géza, the deaf servant, regularly aired them and kept them in some sort of order: he might be a vampire, but Krolock never compromised about keeping things in order. Letting the place fall down would mean change too.

Even then, there was a slightly musty smell in the bedchamber when Krolock entered carrying the unconscious soldier. It was cool too, but fortunately Géza had placed some fresh wood by the fireplace. Krolock wasn't capable of being warm himself anymore, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy warmth; Géza made sure there was always a fire in his private study and sitting room.

Laying the young man on bed and his worn rucksack on the floor, Krolock turned to lit a fire to chase the chill away. The cold was not harmful for _him, _but he hadn't forgotten all about being human. While he was working on the fire, he thought he heard a quiet moan and turned sharply towards the soldier. However, the young man was lying still and quiet. When the fire was blazing merrily, he turned around to study his unconscious guest.

Krolock was by no means a doctor, but his father had insisted his son to serve in military for a while. Times had been restless and belligerent back then, and young Johannes had witnessed many a broken man being treated by medics, and he knew the basics of treating simple wounds. He only hoped the young man's injury was that: simple.

After fetching the needed tools and ordering Géza to find clean clothes and prepare some food for his guest, he began to undress the soldier carefully, tossing the filthy clothes one by one into a pile nearby. He would not have trusted this task to anyone else, not even Herbert: first of all, none of them had probably ever even witnessed treating to a wound and secondly, their bloodlust might overcome them. If anything, they were more inclined to _inflict _wounds than to heal them. And for some reason, if only for the sake of being curious what the young man might say, he did not want the soldier dead.

Despite being in a need of several good meals, the young man had a beautiful body: his skin was fine as silk, his arms and chest were just lightly muscled and a trail of dark hair followed his skin from his chest all the way down to his belly and loins. Several old scars testified of his career in military.

Fortunately, the wound on his side – probably from a bullet that had scratched the skin open – was not too deep or severe. It only needed cleaning and new dressings, and the young man's body would take care of the rest. Yet it was the eleventh hour for him: if Krolock could deduce anything from what he saw and smelled, the wound was in the brink of becoming infected. If that came to pass, nothing he could do would help.

With cautious hands, he cleansed the wound and wrapped clean linen around it. The smell of blood hung heavy, but having fed just that night, he was able to handle his bloodlust. Nevertheless, the timing had been very fortunate for the young man. Krolock would probably have just killed the stranger there in the snow had he not fed on that unlucky peasant just before.

After tying the final knot on the soldier's dressing, Krolock decided he had done all he could. The rest depended on the young man himself. As he was collecting his things, Géza came in, carrying clothes and a small tray of food – just some bread, cheese and ham as the young man might be out for some time and any hot food would just get cold. Géza's face did not betray what he thought of his Master's business, and Krolock wasn't interested enough to read his servant's mind. When Géza was gone, he locked the door behind him. After all his efforts to keep the soldier alive, he didn't want anyone wandering in and sucking out what life remained in the young man.

It was not until he was resting safely in his sarcophagus, idly listening to his son shuffle about in crypt, that Krolock finally asked himself just _why_ had he gone through all that effort.

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><p>The consciusness returned suddenly, as it did every night. It was not sleep what vampires did when they rested: it was more like some sort of hibernation. Sleep was not even compulsory for vampires by days as long as they stayed out of sunlight. Krolock preferred resting during daytime, however. It was usually dreamless and pleasant – almost like what he imagined real death to be.<p>

Getting rid off Herbert was somewhat easy: the boy was too occupied by the fact that he had just received the newest fashionable fabrics for a new suit to notice anything odd about his old father.

The soldier was still sleeping when the Count entered the room. The stranger had, however, regained some colour and seemed to rest peacefully, his chest rising and falling rhytmically with his heavy breathing. He had been awake some time during the day, for some of the food on the tray beside him had disappeared and he had pulled a fresh shirt over his head – it was one of Herbert's old, and the boy would hardly miss one shirt and a pair of pants when his closet was full of all sorts of clothing. Krolock sat down by the bed and idly wondered just how young this soldier might be – probably not much older than Herbert had been when the boy had been turned into a vampire.

He was so deeply engaged by his thoughts that at first, he did not realize his guest had woken up. The young man had lifted himself up on one elbow and was staring at him, the green eyes studying the Count as if he were some sort of exotic animal. Maybe he was – what with his old-fashioned attire and long straight hair, the kind that noblemen rarely sported.

"Where am I? Who are you?" the soldier finally asked, yanking the vampire back into reality. He spoke French, which Krolock luckily understood and commanded himself. Studying _lingua franca _had been a part of his upbringing, even though here, on these distant lands, you rarely heard anyone speak French.

"I am Count Johannes von Krolock. This is my home", he answered. His French sounded rusty and ancient even to himself, but the yound soldier seemed to understand. "You are far from home, soldier. Might I ask what brings you here, and who are you?"

"Corporal Marius Belrose, at your service. There was a battle... I was departed from my regiment and wasn't able to find them again afterwards. I've been wandering for some weeks, or months – I really can't say, because my sense of time seems to have gotten a bit hazy", young soldier explained quietly, lowering himself back on the mattress.

"You were marching with Napoleon?" Krolock asked, leaning slightly towards his guest. He had heard of the war that was raging over the continent, and of the man at the head of the French army, but not much more.

"I was, your grace. But it has been every man for himself ever since Russia", corporal answered, not meeting the Count's eyes.

"I take it his advance did not go as expected?" Johannes inquired. News didn't often reach his castle, but he was curious to know whether he would be called to serve a new emperor – not that he was very interested in serving any human. Rather, he suspected no-one in Budapest or Wien even remembered the existence of House of Krolock. Living at the very edge of the civilized world had its advantages.

"No. Not at all", the young man answered quietly, pain slightly colouring his voice. His eyes told of horrors witnessed on the battlefield and beyond, yet there was a rare kind of spark there, too.

"Are you in pain?" the Count asked.

"I'm not, your grace. But if you would be so kind as to pour me some water... I'm rather thirsty. If it's not too much of a bother..." Marius asked.

"Of course", the Count answered and rose up to pour water for his guest. He offered the goblet for the corporal, and as he did so, their fingers brushed: the warmth of mortal bodies never quite ceased to please him. It was one thing he missed about being a human.

"Thank you, your grace. You are very kind", Marius mumbled and drank. He asked for two more refills, and quietly the Count continued pouring until the corporal was content. Herbert would have laughed, of course: his high and sublime father serving a mere soldier! Things like that _just didn't happen. _Even more of a reason to keep this out of Herbert's knowledge.

"Shall I send for food? You seem like a warm meal would do you some good", Krolock offered.

"If you would be so kind, your grace", his guest whispered. Sensing the young man might wish for some privacy, the Count nodded.

"Géza will bring you something, then. Do not be alarmed when he doesn't answer. He's deaf and mute", he warned the corporal and left with a quick stride.

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><p>Being young and vital, corporal soon began to heal and regain his strength. Every night, Krolock went to see how his guest was faring and usually he sat there, listening to the young man tell stories of war and his life in France. At first, Marius seemed a bit cautious but with the slightest persuading – if a vampire's hypnotic voice could be called that – he was soon spilling his life story. When he began to tell his tales, his face and eyes lit up with life and laughter.<p>

"... well, by then she had already figured out I wasn't actually some lost prince, and that she wouldn't get any reward when I rose to reclaim my throne. So I ended up racing the streets of Paris half-naked, her henchmen chasing after me! Luckily for me, I know Paris better than the back of my hand and there was this one brothel, and I was in good terms with the girls there so they let me hide – I had to dress as a woman to get away from my pursuers, though, but that's another story. But anyway, I won the bet. Lot good it did, though, as I had to spend half of the money I won in bying new shirt and coat and paying a reward to that prostitute who let me dress in her clothes in order to get away... You see, my lord, it's not like I could have gone back to the lady's house to ask for my clothes..." the soldier recited the complicated story of how he came to be a soldier. It was such a complex and adventurous tale that halfway through it, Krolock wasn't sure anymore where it all had started or even where it all was going. Still, the story of the rich widow pulled a low, throaty chuckle out of him and he couldn't help but shake his head in quiet amazement. What stories this young man had in store!

"I don't really have a family back home, nor do I own much. I've tried different kind of professions, but I suppose it was more like searching for something than actually trying to make my living. That's how I became a actor and met the rich widower I just told you about. But she was really vengeful lady and I thought getting away from Paris for a while wouldn't be a bad idea. And joining the army was the perfect solution... When the war started, I thought I might find adventures or win some sort of fortune by following the emperor and maybe make something better out of my life. Some fortune it turned out to be", he explained and gave a small sigh.

"You don't have sisters or brothers? Any family at all?" Krolock asked nonchalantly.

"None, your grace. They all died when we were young. I'm the only one who survived", Marius answered with a touch of sadness in his voice. He had cared for his family, and now they were gone. It was certainly something Johannes could identify with, even though he still had Herbert. "What of you then, my lord? Do you live all by yourself here?"

"I have a son. He's the last of my kin", he answered quietly. That wasn't quite the mad escapade his guest had just recited for him, but then again, he was hardly the same kind of adventurer. If anything, he was usually the antagonist of the adventure.

"Oh", Marius answered, scratching at his neck.

"What is it?" the Count asked.

"It's just... well, I didn't think you had any family, your grace. I've only seen you and that servant. The castle is so... quiet", Marius explained.

"It is old, and there's not much of us left. The time for my kind has passed. Once, this castle was full of life and noises, but all of that is gone now", the Count said slowly, not really noticing the intense gaze of his guest. He shook his head, self-absorbed: Herbert always said he thought too much of the past.

"You have lost someone too, your grace, haven't you?" the young man asked. Krolock lifted his eyes to meet the other's gaze.

"I have. Too many of someones, to be precise", he said, more honest than he had been in a long time.

"I am sorry, my lord", Marius whispered.

"It is fine. I have made peace with my sorrows", the Count said, and with the wave of his hand, he closed the topic.

"Your grace, I was wondering if I could have a bath. And maybe tidy myself up a bit – my beard has become quite a horrific thing", Marius said then, reaching for a light tone.

"Of course. I'll have Géza prepare a bath for you", Krolock answered and left the young man's bedchamber, unable to bear the gaze of those green eyes any longer.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Updating in advance this time, as I'm not sure when I'll get to my computer next.

This is another slightly longer chapter, because when I got to editing what I'd written before, these people just wouldn't shut up and an entirely new and unplanned scene emerged. Also, we finally have Herbert making a proper appearing. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

The next time he saw his guest, he almost did not know young man. Having bathed and shaved his face clean, Marius was like another man entirely. His bushy beard had seemed to cover most of his face, but now from under it was revealed someone who was almost ten years younger. The change was truly drastic. Marius was not only comely, he was _beautiful. _With high cheekbones, perfectly arched eyebrows, expressive eyes, full lips, straight nose and fine skin that would have sent a 14-years-old Herbert screaming with jealousy, the corporal was one of the most beautiful men Krolock had ever seen.

"I take it you enjoyed your bath?" the Count asked after he had realized this was actually the soldier he had saved fom snow and not some stranger who had just happened to wander in.

"Yes, thank you, your grace. It was very enjoyable - I think I scrubbed off at least couple generations of lice", Marius commented, and Krolock was secretly thankful for that. He was too polite to tell that the soldier's stench had started to somewhat bother him. "And I was wondering..."

The young soldier hesitated, lowering his gaze. The Count raised his eyebrows.

"You were wondering?" he repeated impatiently, as he was not one for games.

"My lord, I'm not sure if it is an entirely proper thing to ask of a Count", his guest blurted, suddenly blushing. The colour on his face was actually rather delicious.

"Corporal, I am hardly the King of England. I'm merely a tired old man in a desolate castle far away from places where titles such as mine still mean something. You can ask anything", Krolock pointed out, unable to hide the dryness from his voice.

"I was wondering whether your grace could cut my hair. I would do it myself if I could, but..." Marius said, not meeting the Count's gaze. He seemed unbearably embarrassed and it made Krolock smile. For a soldier who constantly seemed to be caught in some sort of insane adventure, Marius could be surprisingly shy.

"Of course I can cut your hair. What do you take me for, an emperor? I used to cut Herbert's hair back when..." he said, but swallowed the rest of his words. The young man didn't need to know – especially not about that one time when he had almost slit his son's throat when the idea of sharp objects and harm they could cause had become almost unbearable – and the soldier was wise enough to not pursue the matter.

After planting Marius on chair, he took the corporal's own razor. It would have to do as he was not even sure where to go and look for scissors.

"Your grace, can I ask a personal question?" the young soldier asked after a moment.

"Go on", Krolock prompted, focusing on his guest's thick locks, which felt delightfully soft under his fingers. After undressing someone and treating their wounds, there were not many barriers of privacy left.

"How old are you exactly, my lord?" Marius asked cautiously, as if fearing he was entering unsafe area.

"Young enough not to take offence for such question but old enough not to answer it", the Count answered, keeping his voice more distant than he actually was.

"I am sorry, your grace. I didn't intend to meddle", his guest hurried to say, embarrasment colouring his voice once again.

"It is no matter", Krolock said, concentrating on the task at hand.

When he was done, he brushed away the loose hair from the young man's shoulders with the back of his hand; Marius shook his head and ran his fingers through his now short mane. There was unconscious suaveness about the way he moved, the kind that was very pleasant to look at – he came across rather as a great dancer than as a soldier.

"Thank you very much, your grace", he said and stood up. "Might I ask, why isn't there any mirrors here? I don't think I've seen any, not even in the bathroom."

"My son has broken most of them. He was... displeased with his looks when he was 15. I haven't gotten around to replace the mirrors", Krolock answered, rather proud of his little white lie. Well, it wasn't _completely _untrue, anyway: Herbert had indeed gotten rid of most of the mirrors, but not because he hadn't liked the way he looked.

"I understand", the corporal answered, accepting his explanation as it was.

_He is beginning to trust me. _

"What of your son, then? I haven't even met him, your grace", Marius pointed out as he picked loose hairs that had sticked to his lips.

"He's away for now, managing some business", the Count answered, not meeting his human guest's gaze. He wasn't sure what would happen should Herbert come across Marius, but it would probably include rather straightforward advances from his son.

"Oh. How old is he, my lord? If you don't mind me asking?"

"Some years younger than you are", Krolock said quietly. Well, it was true, in a way – Herbert had just turned 20 when the Count had changed him.

"Is he very much like you, your grace?" Marius inquired. It was beginning to look like there was no end to his questions, and the vampire entertained himself with the idea of ending his guest's questions with a bite.

"Not at all. Herbert takes more after his mother", the Count answered. At least that wasn't a lie.

"Does your wife live here, my lord?" the young soldier asked now.

"She died years ago", Johannes said, his voice quiet and strained. No matter how many years passed, the pain of her loss never quite seemed to disappear.

"I am sorry, I truly am. And I apologize for asking so many questions, your grace. It's just... well, I haven't had proper conversation with anyone ever since... I can't even say when was the last time I actually talked with someone. And you, my lord, you seem like someone who could use a talk or two", Marius explained, all embarrasment and uncertainty gone from his voice. Krolock turned his face sharply towards his chatty guest.

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked, harsher than he had intended.

"With all respect, your grace, you seem kind of lonely to me", the young man said solemnly.

Johannes had no idea of what to answer to that. Without a word, he left the chamber.

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><p>Herbert was picking at his hair, not far from Marius' bedchamber. The boy looked utterly captivated by his task, but Krolock knew his son better than that: Herbert never had that expression unless he wanted something.<p>

"Evening, Vati", the boy called then, lifting his gaze from one straight blonde strand of hair.

"Herbert", Krolock answered. His son had not even started talking yet, but he knew already what it was: the boy had finally noticed the presence of the human.

"That was brief, I have to say. I was already beginning to think you have started to consider moving out of the crypt for good", Herbert said, his voice light but the edge of accusation was there.

"What is it, son?" Krolock asked patiently.

"What are you intentions exactly? What is this... this human pet?" Herbert demanded. The younger vampire hated it when his father kept things from him.

"He's exactly that. A pet. Mere entertainment", the Count said carelessly. "Don't act all high and mighty – I know everything about _your _endeavors among humans and I don't remember ever blaming you for them."

Herbert pouted.

"But what are you going to do with him? What do you want from him?" the boy asked. He was trying very hard to hide his burning curiousity, but like always, Krolock saw through it. He shrugged.

"I don't have any intentions. He's here because I happened to feel so. And he will leave when the time comes. But for now, he is going to stay and no one is going to lay a finger on him without my permission", he informed his son, searching for the younger vampire's eyes. "Herbert, what is it?"

"It's nothing, Vati", the boy claimed.

"You think he's going to take your place, don't you? That I'm going to forget about you", Krolock realized. "Silly boy! As if some human could ever replace you!"

"You promise that, Vati?" Herbert asked, sounding suddenly incomprehensibly vulnerable for a vampire who had lived two hundred years.

"Of course I do, Herbert. There's no one – _no one –_ on this earth who is as precious to me as you are", the older vampire swore. His son smiled, one of those brilliant smiles only Herbert could manage.

"Maybe it will do you good, Vati. You have been kind of blue lately. Maybe this is just what you need", the boy decided: it was so like him to change his mind on an impulse.

"Yes. Maybe", Krolock echoed, although he was already wondering exactly why Herbert would be so upset by a mere human pet, and what exactly the viscount thought his motives were.

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><p>Now that Herbert was feeling confident about himself again, he graciously picked some clothes from his own closet that Marius could use.<p>

"I won't have him wander around in that hideous uniform of his. It's a disaster, really! It would be a great service to him and to the world if I just burned the thing. And we can't have him wearing your clothes – he'd look absolutely silly in them, I won't have that. I have just the thing here..." the boy informed his father. The older vampire didn't comment or interfere when his son was in the middle of one of his bouts of energy.

His son finally returned with several pairs of pants, shirts and couple of coats. They were remarkably plain for Herbert, made of soft dark blue fabric, which was probably the reason he picked them. Even though the clothes might have been plain compared to what Herbert usually wore, they were by no means ordinary: Krolock suspected they were richer than anything Marius had ever worn.

He took it to himself to deliver the clothes himself, as he still was unsure how Herbert would react around the soldier, and as Géza was somewhere downstairs. There was no reason to bother his servant as he was perfectly capable of taking care of the matter himself.

Marius' bedchamber's room was slightly ajar and the young man was not inside when the vampire entered. Krolock didn't mind, though: it was his castle, after all, and he would enter if he so wished.

Placing the clothes Herbert had lent on the foot of the bed, his gaze was captured by pieces of paper resting on the duvet. The paper was somewhat creased and it bore signs of being carried all the way from France, but it wasn't the state of paper that held the vampire's gaze. It was the picture – a sketch of the Count himself.

It had been a long time since he had seen his own reflection and sometimes he even forgot how he looked. However, he did have a general vision of himself in mind, even if the exact details could sometimes be blurred by time, and it was certainly not what Marius had put on paper. In his mind, he saw an old man with a weary, gaunt face – not someone you wanted to look upon for long. Marius' sketch had some of that, yet there were other things, and more prominent, too: the sharp, intense eyes, with only a hint of heaviness and sorrows he felt on his heart, and a face he had never even pictured to be elegant. One corner of his mouth had been lifted in a half-smile, and for some reason the soldier had sketched the hair falling over one shoulder like a dark curtain.

It was very flattering, the Count felt, and he wasn't sure what to make out of it. In any case, Marius seemed to be quite an artist and he was able to hint untold things with slightest of lines – even if his vision was somewhat impaired.

"What do you think, your grace?" the soldier asked just by his elbow, peeking curiously over the vampire's shoulder.

"Is this how you see me?" Krolock asked after regaining his composure. He hadn't even heard the human enter! Either he was getting old or the soldier was of particularly light feet.

"Well, it's some things I see, your grace", Marius answered, gathering his crumpled papers into one pile.

"You are very gifted, corporal, although I have to say your image of me is vastly different from mine", the Count said quietly and passed the sketch back to his guest. "I didn't know you were an artist."

"I don't think you can really call me an artist, my lord", Marius said with a slight smile. "I just like drawing, that is. I did use to work as an assistant for this painter back at Paris, though. I don't mean to boast, but I still think _I _was the better artist out of the two of us."

"You worked for a painter? Was that before or after posing as a prostitute?" the Count asked with slight lift of his eyebrows. A delicious shade of red entered young soldier's face and the vampire couldn't help but smile slightly.

"Before. I quit when his wife began to make advances towards me", Marius mumbled, sounding lightly off-balance. "I became an actor after that – she sometimes came to see me at the theatre and always made these faces at me when I was on the stage..."

The wife must have been quite a hag then, as Marius didn't exactly seem like someone to turn down lovesick women. The Count didn't say that out loud, however.

"Your tools seem rather worn. I shall have a look if I can find anything more suitable around here – I believe my son had this particular period of artistic efforts, but in the end he forgot about it..." Krolock offered. Herbert often had all kinds of new interests, but if he could recall correctly, this particular hobby had been forgotten when Herbert had become aware of this one beautiful young man back in the village... The Count didn't tell his guest _that. _

Marius' eyes widened with awe as if Krolock had promised to fetch him something unattainable, like the crown jewels of Great Britain. The vampire certainly had not expected such reaction – he had made the offer mostly out of politeness.

"You will, my lord?" the soldier asked, enthusiasm colouring his voice.

"Of course. There should be some proper paper floating around here somewhere", Krolock said lightly. In his eagerness, the young man grabbed the Count's hand and waved it gleefully.

"Thank you, your grace! You don't know what pain it is to use crumpled paper for drawing!" Marius said, smiling as if the prospect of proper tools was the best news he had gotten in a long time. Only then did the young soldier realize that he was gripping the Count's hand in his own, and blushing again, he dropped it. "Oh, I'm sorry..."

Managing a muffled _it doesn't matter, _Krolock nodded and strode for the door, squeezing his hand into a fist. Somehow, escape always seemed the best solution when it came to Marius...

Only when he had reached the safety of his own old bedchamber, he let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

* * *

><p>"Do you mind me asking a question, your grace? Just one this time?" Marius asked next day, when the Count was inspecting the wound and changing the linens for clean. The vampire lifted his gaze from his guest's injury - the soldier's face was very sincere.<p>

"I suppose I don't mind", the Count said after studying his guest's face for a moment. He lowered his gaze and began to dress the wound. There was a clean, healthy smell about it now – it was almost healed.

"To be frank, I'm not sure if it's really a question or more of an observation... In any case, I am feeling pretty well now, and I suppose I would be even in a condition to travel. But you haven't even talked about whether you want me leave or not. Doesn't my presence ever bother you, my lord?" the corporal asked.

Krolock didn't answer right away, but concentrated on dressing the soldier's wound. Indeed, it was a good question.

"It is not often that we get guests here, so I am in no hurry to send you on your way. Who knows when the next visitor will come? I always enjoy a fresh blast of air from the wide world, and it's not like housing you will impoverish me. Do you wish to leave then, young Belrose?" he asked , unconcerned, though it wasn't entirely true – he was perfectly content with Herbert's company and quite frankly, he enjoyed the solitude more than housing multiple guests. He lifted his eyes and looked at his guest questioningly. "You said yourself that you don't have anything to return to, so I didn't think you would be in any hurry to leave."

"That's true. It's not like there's anything waiting for me", Marius agreed, unable to hide a sad tone from his voice.

"What about your home? Your country? Don't you miss France?" the Count asked and tied up the linen's edges into a neat knot.

"No, not really. It was just the place I was born in, not much more. There's no people waiting for my return, nor some property to manage... And what would I do there anyway? There I would just as poor as I am here, if not even poorer. Everything I own I'm carrying on myself. I have no other profession or home than army, and I don't think France will be needing soldiers now that the emperor is won. My family is gone, as probably are most of my friends... devoured by the same beast of war we set loose on Europe... Here, at least, I have some sort of... sort of _bench mark_", the young man said, half to himself.

"So you wish to stay then?" the vampire asked, lowering his hands from the human's torso.

"If it doesn't inconvenience you too much, your grace. If you would have me here", Marius said quietly, staring at his lap.

"You are welcome to stay here as long as you wish. As long as you promise to be careful... this castle is old, and not entirely safe", the Count said with a lowered voice. Not that he expected his flock to defy him – they knew what would come out of _that –_ but vampires could be unruly creatures at times.

Marius, however, once again expressed surprising innocence for a man who made it his profession to kill; he looked at the Count with wide, unknowing eyes.

"I promise to be careful. Anything you want, my lord."

The vampire nodded and turned over to gather the dirty linens in a pile for Géza to wash when he felt the hand on his arm. People very rarely touched him, and hardly from their own initiative, so he twitched from the unfamiliar sensation, just as surprised as when Marius had grabbed his hand and waved it around in a gush of enthusiasm. The corporal drew his hand quickly back.

"Your grace, I just realized something. I never really thanked you for saving my life. So... thank you. I am very grateful", Marius said, his voice low, almost choked with emotion. _Bench mark. _

Johannes offered his guest one of his rare smiles.

"You are welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Here comes an update after my short hiatus. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"He's rather pretty, your little soldier. I think I might have even tried and take a shot at him if he wasn't yours", Herbert commented one night when the two Krolocks were sitting in library. The older vampire lifted his gaze up from his book, vaguely amused.

"He's not _my_ human. He's merely a guest", he commented blithely, shooting a glance at his son. "That doesn't mean you can have him, though."

Herbert smiled to himself, radiating self-assured complacency.

"What made you save him, Vati?" the viscount asked after a while, leaning towards the older vampire.

"A coincidence. If I hadn't fed just before I found him, I'd probably have killed him", Krolock answered, lowering his eyes back on his book. He wasn't reading, though.

"A coincidence?" Herbert echoed, stroking his chin absentmindedly. The older vampire didn't particularly like that expression – it usually meant his son was up to something.

"Yes. A mere coincidence."

* * *

><p>It was only later that Krolock understood what actually transpired between his son and Marius that night in the library. What came across as an assault towards Herbert was in truth a carefully formed plan by his son: Herbert's methods could be curious and just plain bizarre at times, but usually the younger vampire knew what he was doing. And Herbert knew his Vati, better than Krolock would have guessed.<p>

So when he came across the young corporal threatening Herbert with a small dagger, his first instinct was to leap and defend his offspring. It was all he could do from showing his fangs and snarling like a wild animal.

"What is going on here?"

At the sight of him the two broke off: Marius fell back and Herbert crawled backwards, then lifting himself up on his feet with a graceful arch of his back.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, it was him, he provoked me..." Marius tried, but when it came to Krolock's son, he was unreachable. Herbert came first, always.

"What did you do? Why did you attack my son?" Krolock roared, his voice booming through the castle (potentially shaking the furniture on the upper levels and scaring the rats in the cellars into death, as Herbert liked to say). It was a voice he didn't use often. When he did, his folk stalked and tiptoed around him for months as if he could explode any moment.

"Your grace, I'm so sorry..." Marius tried, but Krolock's angry snarl silenced him. The young soldier escaped the room.

The Count hurried to his son, relieved to see that Herbert was fine and unharmed.

"Really, Vati, you overreact. He didn't harm me at all. It's nothing, really", the younger vampire assured.

"Nothing? I saw his dagger at your throat!" Krolock exclaimed. Only after examining Herbert's neck did he believe his son's words.

"It's my fault, really. I was really impolite to him. I think he was right – I provoked him", the viscount said with that particularly innocent expression that usually gave him away.

"It doesn't matter. No one attacks my son", Krolock insisted.

"Vati, you're overreacting and silly. I was perfectly fine – I could have taken care of it myself", Herbert said airily. "You should go see him and apologize. Your reaction was uncalled for. He's your guest, after all."

"What would you have me do, then? I truly thought you were in danger", Krolock defended himself, although he was already starting to suspect that the scene he had just witnessed hadn't necessarily been genuine.

"I know. But like I said, I was fine – I can take care of myself, Vati. Really, you could imagine I was still five years old!" Herbert smiled victorious. "Go to him, Vati. I'm sure both of you need it."

* * *

><p>Marius was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing his old and worn uniform. He had made his bed and neatly folded the clothes borrowed from Herbert – unusual tidiness from him. He seemed pale and somehow forlorn. He sat quietly worrying a loose thread from his sleeve when Krolock came in.<p>

"I am sorry", was the first thing Johannes heard when he entered. Marius' voice was full of sadness and regret. The young man could not quite lift up his gaze and meet the Count's eyes, but his very person was sort of radiating with the strength of what he felt. His emotions always came from the very bottom of his heart.

"Your grace, I didn't mean to attack him, I really did not. But he was so... well, more than rude. You don't probably want to hear ill stories of your own son, so I won't tell you what he said to me. You were right, though. He's nothing like you", Marius said quietly. Krolock moved silently to the painted window, gazing out without knowing what to do or say. It wasn't often that he was rendered speechless; with Marius, it seemed to happen every night.

"I swear, it wasn't my intention to insult you or your son. It was a mistake. Sometimes my emotions just get better of me. I am... truly sorry. I am. Do you believe me?" the young man whispered. The vampire stood still and quiet. Anger was gone already, but the burning feel deep inside was still there...

"I will leave, if you want me to – I'll do anything – but just listen to me this one time... I didn't mean to hurt or disrespect anyone. Please!"

Krolock felt a hand on his shoulder. Even through his clothing, he could feel the warmth.

Sharply, he turned around and there the corporal was, all uncertainty and fear. And those green eyes of his – they reflected so many emotions, so much life... it was almost painful to look at when the vampire had so little of those things himself.

He lost all control.

He grabbed Marius by the back of his neck and kissed him, like he had wanted to for some time without his own knowing. It was not a gentle kiss, but rough and angry, reflecting all the unfulfilled need and desire that had laid buried for many years. For a split second, he expected the young man to pull back and look at him with disgust and disbelief, maybe even with fear in his eyes. The vampire would have understood. _Just this once, and then never again... _

Yet that was not what Marius did. Instead, the young man grabbed the Count's shoulders, clung to him, and answered the kiss desperately, as if the soldier's life depended on it. He had to tiptoe in order to kiss the older man – the vampire was that much taller – and the Count lifted him up. For a moment his feet dangled about, but then the soldier wrapped them around the vampire's hips. It was one of the most intimate embraces the Count had ever had.

Somehow, they fell on the bed with and it gave a low creak under them, too old for such vigorous activities. Marius looked up into the vampire with somewhat flustered yet awed expression and the Count had to repress almost painful desire to bite the young man's neck. His hands seemed to have a life of their own: they soon began working over the buttons of the young soldier's clothes, reaching for the warm skin that was just there near his reach. And Marius pressed himself towards him, with desperation and passion to match his own – the kind that made the vampire idly wonder if this was what the young man had been dreaming about all along. It was not sudden desire, but something that had been smoldering quietly, bursting into full flames at the moment of its unexpected fulfillment...

Marius' skin was just as hot and firm under his fingers as he had expected. It was so very smooth, with the hard muscles just underneath, and his hands roamed over, drunk with all that delightful warmth. _Just this once._

It was some time since the Count had been so intimate with any human or vampire, and the physical nearness was almost, but not quite as stunning as drinking blood. His kisses were few, but he wasn't fastidious when it came to caresses and touches. And Marius would make these most curious noises, arching his back, grabbing the sheets or the vampire's long hair, digging his nails into the older man's shoulders, calling Krolock's name for the very first time in the middle of blind passion... Johannes almost bit the soldier, and he had to battle himself with all his might – instead he buried his teeth in his own wrist...

Afterwards, the corporal lay there spent and panting.

"Where did you learn to do _that?" _Marius asked with a weak voice.

"I've had some time for training", the Count growled and claimed his newly-made lover's lips in a kiss. If the soldier wondered about the metallic taste of blood on the vampire's mouth, he never showed it.

In the end, it was Krolock's stamina that proved superior. The corporal fell fast asleep, his beautiful face calm and content as he laid beside the vampire, so close yet not quite touching – the Count was not one for cuddling. Only now did the consequence of acting out of an impulse present itself. What should he do now? Where to put his human lover? One thing he knew for sure: there was no going back that casual host-guest -relationship they had shared before _this. _

It was rather odd, to have the human sleep there so calmly, unknowing of how Krolock could take his life with a single bite. It had not been his first time in the arms of another man, the vampire had known: not exactly something he would have expected of the soldier. He had thought Marius to be more disposed towards the opposite sex rather than his own. As for himself, two hundred years on this earth had made him indifferent to whether his partner was a woman or another man.

But none of that answered his question. Where to go now? What to do? He had not exactly been thinking when he had acted upon this human, after all. He had never intended to go this far: Marius had been something to watch and listen to – a curious pet that recited amusing stories, but nothing more. Oh yes, Marius was beautiful and desirable, but not enough to overthrow his more rational side... or so he had thought. Sadly, it wasn't his reasonable mind that came to decide his actions after all.

And what after now? What then when Marius would wake up? What would Krolock do or say?

Too many thoughts, there were, and his mind felt so very heavy...

* * *

><p>"Johannes! Johannes!"<p>

Forcibly waken up was not pleasant. Vampires could be awakened from their rest with some effort, but it was usually somewhat painful, and sometimes Krolock would have his head heavy and pounding weeks after such a violent awakening.

But he did wake up, even if his every instinct told him to fall back in the comforting darkness where there was no hunger, no heaviness pressing his mind or heart.

First, he became conscious of the hands shaking him. Then there was the voice calling his given name – the name that was so rarely used these days.

"I'm here. I'm here", he mumbled, and his voice sounded hoarse even to himself.

"Thank heavens!" the voice called, and the arms were around him... He didn't necessarily like the sensation of being held in such way, but the incredible warmth almost lulled him back to rest. However, he fought his way back to the surface of consciousness.

"What is it? What is wrong?" he asked as his vision cleared and he saw Marius' concerned face. Instinctively, he knew it was daytime and his eyes flipped over to the curtains: they were still closed. He didn't want to think of what might have happened if Marius had drawn the curtains and let the sunlight in. It might have been an easy way out, a kindness even, but Herbert would never have forgiven him if he died. In any case, he should not have let himself fall unconscious, not here at least.

"You were lying so still and quiet, I thought you were..." Marius stuttered, fighting to calm himself. "And your skin is so cool..."

"I have naturally low body temperature. And I am a heavy sleeper", the Count said, his voice colourless as he rose up in a sitting position, relieving himself from the human's grip. Marius' arms fell down, but the vampire felt the young soldier's eyes on him, still alarmed. Quietly, he climbed up on his feet and gathered his clothes that were scattered around on the floor. He needed to get out.

"You live in an old castle far in the middle of a forest. Everything here is so _old, _even the way you dress and speak. I haven't seen anybody else than you, your son and that servant of yours, yet I hear the whispers, the movings of quiet feet by nights. You are pale as the moon, as if you had never seen sunlight. And you only appear when the sun is down. I've never seen you eat or drink anything, and when you sleep, it's like you were _dead. _Believe me, I've witnessed my share of dead bodies and you looked exactly like one just before you woke up. All the stories you tell of past times – they're like you had been there yourself! Your skin is always so cool... and even though you must be almost twice as old as I am, you don't wear down like I do. The way you move so quick and suave, and how you look at me sometimes, as if you didn't see a person but a prey..." Marius said quietly, his voice strained and trembling. "I have heard stories of your kind, but thought them just that – stories. But they aren't just tales, are they?"

Krolock felt his muscles tense, and the need to turn and leap towards the young man was almost unbearable. His every instinct told him to attack and take Marius' life, or turn him. His reason urged him to do it, but something was holding him back. There was a small gasp from the young man...

He turned to face the human and he realized the reason for the younger man's quick intake of breath. Marius was holding a small handmirror that was either his own or a lone survivor of that one bout of Herbert's when the boy had realized he had no reflection anymore. He knew what the human had seen in mirror as the soldier had turned it towards him: nothing.

It was no use to try and deny it – the other man had seen right through him. And it was not like the soldier could escape, if he decided to take the human's life anyway. He let his fangs finally show and Marius sat pale and unmoving on the bed, his eyes fixed at the Count's deadly teeth.

"Are you scared of me?" Krolock asked, studying the younger man's face intently, trying to find any sign that would tell him what to do.

"I don't know. Maybe I should be. Are you going to kill me?" the young soldier asked. His face was white, yet somehow he didn't seem fearful.

"Should I kill you then?" the vampire inquired, cocking his head. He ran the tip of his tongue over his fangs, and his lover's gaze followed the movement, momentarily mesmerized: vampires were naturally sensual creatures and often provoked the according reaction in humans.

"You saved my life. You could have left me there in the snow, or take my life while I was defenseless. You have had hundreds of chances to kill me, yet you have only showed me kindness and hospitality. I don't... I don't think you want to do it. You would have done it already, if you did", Marius reasoned slowly. "You wouldn't have kissed me or made love to me that way if you were planning my murder."

"You are very certain that I can control myself", Johannes pointed out, yet he could feel his muscles relaxing gradually. The need to fight and defend himself was already fading. Corporal was right: he didn't want to take the younger man's life. Not yet, at least.

Marius rose up and approached Krolock with cautious steps, hair falling over his face and his eyes wide. He took the vampire's hand in his own, so very warm and alive. This time, the Count didn't flinch.

"I trust you."

* * *

><p>Some time later, after dozing off and waking up again, Marius lifted his head from his pillow.<p>

"Can you now answer that question about your age, or are you still going to be all mysterious?" he inquired, his voice light and so carefree that it made Krolock feel much younger too. It was certainly not how the vampire would have expected Marius to react when he had pictured his true nature being revealed to the human.

"Over two hundred years", he answered quietly, letting out a heavy sigh.

"That's a long time", Marius marveled. He was toying with a strand of the Count's long, straight hair, gliding his fingers up and down as if he had never quite seen and felt anything like it.

"Too long, I often think", Krolock muttered and closed his eyes.

"And you have stayed here all that time?" the young man asked.

"Of course. Where would I've gone?" Johannes asked back, cracking his eyes open just slightly.

"I don't know – everywhere! See the world and it's marvels..." Marius said, a dreamy tone entering his voice. In one quick motion, vampire had the human under him, his teeth on the soldier's neck. He let one fang scrape at the surface just lightly – not enough to draw blood.

"It's not an adventure, you foolish creature, and it's certainly not something you can take off once you've grown tired of it. Do not make it sound so easy when you barely know what you're talking about", he said, his voice a low growl. Marius trembled, gripping at the Count's shoulders.

"I didn't mean to say it was easy and nice. I just meant it would be great to see the world, be so free to go everywhere..." he said quickly. Realizing he had overreacted, Krolock relaxed and rolled back to his own side and forced back any thoughts of actually biting his human lover. After a while, he began to speak.

"When I was bitten, I had a family to look after. Herbert was small, and my wife... she would never have let me go, even if I'd wanted. And when my son came of age, I no longer felt the required curiousity. I felt I had had my share of life already, and nothing outside the walls of my castle seemed significant enough to provoke my interest to the point of leaving. I am quite content in staying here", Krolock said. "Believe me, this so called freedom is not as fantastic as you would imagine. In many ways, you're more free than I can ever be."

"Then tell me what's it like. How were did you become as you are now? How did it feel?" the young soldier asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

The vampire remained quiet for a while as he remembered the day he had been bitten. It seemed a thousand years ago, yet he could recall it as if everything had happened just yesterday. Quietly, he brushed his fingers over the spot on his neck where the vampire's fangs had sunk so many years ago.

"I was riding that day, alone. My wife didn't like it when I went riding all by myself – she always worried something would happen... In the end, she was right. I should have listened to her... My horse was spooked by something, and to this night, I still don't know what it was. All I know, it threw me from its back and I saw no more."

"I came around again when the sun was setting. I could not move my legs or arms, yet I was in pain like I had never been before. I tried to call for help, but even shouting hurt. So I fell silent, waiting for help, for death, for anything... But in the end, it was a vampire who found me."

"I don't remember much of it, nor the face of the one who turned me. I remember the feel of his fangs on my neck, though. To be frank, it wasn't painful, not after laying there injured for hours. There is something almost... _peaceful _about being sucked of your life. It didn't take long for the vampire to finish me, and just before I surrendered to the darkness again I could see its white face, stained by my blood..."

"When I woke up, all the pain was gone and I could move again. I had never felt quite so agile and light as I felt then. I rose up and I could see and smell and hear everything... I cannot describe it, but if you can imagine it – it was dark, yet it wasn't really _dark _anymore. Night was alive like never before. And I could feel the bite mark on my neck. I knew what it meant... I should have finished myself there and then, but I couldn't. I just had to see my wife and son again."

"And then you were vampire", Marius said quietly, captivated by the Count's story.

"No, not yet. To truly become a vampire you have to feed on a human", Johannes answered, feeling the regret, turned cold and bitter by the decades of self-loathing, gnaw inside him.

"So you could stay sort of human if you didn't feed?" his lover asked.

"Maybe in theory, yes. But in reality it's practically impossible", he answered.

"How so?"

"After you've been bitten, you're not exactly human anymore, but not vampire either. It's a hellish kind of existence – it's not something you can endure for long. You can't drink or eat regular food, because it makes you sick, it gives you little to no nutrition. So you're always hungry, although this hunger goes deeper than you can imagine. Light hurts your eyes and your skin feels raw and painful... And blood – blood is the only thing you can really think about. Suddenly, you _smell _it all the time, and the smell burns your nose. First, it's just a desire, and you can control it. But it consumes you... and then, when you look upon people you know and love, all you can see is _prey. _You have no idea of how that feels, to look on your own son and feel the unbearable desire to kill him! And the desire becomes more than just an urge. It becomes a _need. _After all, you _have _to feed. You either become a vampire or you go mad. Which, in the end, is the same thing", Krolock said, closing his eyes again. Usually, he coped rather well. Nonetheless, talking about it would always be more or less painful.

Marius trembled, taking his hand in his own.

"Who did you kill?" the young man asked, his voice not more than a whisper.

"My wife", Johannes answered, barely audible. "I only meant to kiss her neck... she died in my arms."

"I'm so sorry!" Marius breathed, his voice full of compassion and tears he wouldn't let fall, and he gathered the vampire towards him.

His attempts of comfort were naive and innocent, but Krolock found himself vaguely grateful: it wasn't often that he got such sympathy from anyone, and least of all, from a human. It was rather nice for a change. Yes, it would not last, he knew as much; as soon the young man began to think what being a vampire truly meant, he would not see Johannes as some tragic figure in a need of loving embrace any more, but just as what he really was.

But, for now, this was fine, and he let himself be lost in the young soldier's kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Here comes an update! Read and review! 

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Herbert was grinning like a madman when his father entered the library that night. His eyes had this particular glint in them, like he usually had after succesfully conducting some mischievous little plan of his. The older vampire decided to act ignorant.

"Why that foolish grin, son?" he asked as he seated himself in his usual chair by the fire.

"Vati! I'm so proud of you!" his son chimed happily.

"You are not making any sense, Herbert", the Count commented lightly and picked up his book.

"Oh, Vati, stop pretending you don't know that I know!" Herbert scolded and threw himself in a chair opposite his father.

"I cannot imagine what it is you think that I know that you know", Krolock answered.

"Vati, stop it! You insufferable old bat!" his son complained and threw a cushion towards the older vampire, who dodged the flying object with a swoosh of his hand. He never said it out loud, but he found the annoyed Herbert rather adorable.

"What is it then, son?" he asked, lifting his eyes from his book.

"You know perfectly what it is! His scent is all over you! Don't think I never noticed what was going on between you and that human of yours", Herbert said. "Although I have to say you have a terribly thick skull sometimes, Vati. Luckily, you have me to intefere for you!"

"What would I do without your gracious interruptions", the Count muttered dryly, rolling his eyes, but his son just smiled.

"I have to take a part of honor, though – wasn't that just perfect scene yesterday? I thought anger would be the correct catalyst, and it seems I was right!" the younger vampire boasted airily.

"Nonsense. I do as I please, when I please, and you had nothing to do with it", Krolock informed his son.

"Even you don't believe that, Vati", Herbert said.

"My son, planning my sexual relations in advance. How delightfully disturbing", the Count snorted.

"I do whatever I need to do", Herbert said with an innocent face. "But anyway, I'm very happy for you. I think you could use some peace and calm. He'd better provide them for you or I'll have his head."

The older vampire let out a quiet _hmph_ and lowered his gaze back into his book. He didn't seem to be able to get a hang of it, though, and after a moment he lifted his eyes again.

"How did you know he would even answer such... advances?" he finally asked. Herbert grinned.

"Vati, I know the kind when I see it", the younger vampire said arrogantly and jumped on his feet. "And I got the final confirmation when I told him that you're not going to feel the same about him as he feels about you. I think that was what made him grab that dagger..."

"Herbert! You will have to apologize him", the Count said, frowning at his son.

"I will, I will! Albeit I wonder if he even remembers being mad at me after having his way with you..." Herbert said, gave a silvery laugh and bounced happily out, hopefully going to pester someone else than his poor old father.

* * *

><p>When the question finally came about three months later, Krolock realized he should have seen it coming all along. Such things were so important to humans, even more so than for one of his kind. In the end he wondered just how many hundreds of years it would take for him to have enough wisdom to understand that nothing good never came out of actions and decisions made in the spur of a moment.<p>

"Johannes?" Marius called from before the fireplace. Krolock sometimes forgot how cool his castle was, but for his human lover the place by fire were always the preferred spots. _"After Russia, one learns to appreciate a nice fire", _corporal had said.

"Hmm?" he answered, not lifting his gaze from his book. He never said it out loud, but he rather enjoyed these silent moments spent in the library or Marius' bedroom, while he himself was engrossed in reading, and the young soldier was daydreaming or working on his sketches, quietly humming songs from his home country.

"Johannes, do you love me?"

"I..."

Marius' face was keen and hopeful as he studied the vampire from his spot on the floor. For a second, the Count wished for some sort of interruption so that he could have required time to come up with a proper answer, to ask Herbert for advice (as embarrassing as that was). For the fact was, he didn't know what to say.

He did know the concept of love, had even experienced it with his wife. And he certainly had love of sorts for his son. Years of night and being a vampire hadn't yet made him forget. But Marius?

He honestly had no idea.

"I do care for you", he finally blurted out, but it was already too late, and his tone was all wrong – he could see it in the young man's eyes. And somehow, although he didn't know why or how, a storm was coming.

"What am I to you then, if there's no love for me in you?" the young soldier demanded, staggering up on his feet. "Am I mere entertainment? A whore to play with?"

"Stop that. You know none of that is true", Krolock snapped, lowering his book down. He met the younger man's eyes and stared back stonily, but Marius was not so easily defeated.

"Tell me the truth! What am I to you?" he nearly shouted and grabbed the vampire's shoulders.

"I told you the truth! I do care for you, foolish man!" the Count snapped back and shot up on his feet. Superior height always felt like an advantage in an argument.

"Stop that! Stop lying!" Marius shouted, wavering between anger and desperation. "What was I thinking – that some dashing count in a remote castle might love _me, _a penniless corporal of a wasted army, and sweep me off my feet to some silly fairytale!"

"Could you please calm down!" Krolock ordered, but his words didn't seem to have any effect on his young lover.

"You're just using me, aren't you? That was your intention all along, and when you're done, you're going to kill me!" Marius shouted. It looked like his panic was just feeding itself, pushing him more and more out of balance, and nothing Krolock could say had any effect. Odd, how the lack of three tiny words could cause something like that...

"Marius, look at me!" the Count bellowed and he captured the young man's face between his hands. The soldier's eyes were wide and wild, his face flushed in that particularly delicious way, and he was trembling and breathing very quickly, reminding Johannes a bit of their more vigorous endeavors between the sheets. Yet there was no passion in those green eyes, but panic and desperation.

"You said my name", the young soldier mumbled. "You've never said my name before..."

"I did. Now look me in the eyes."

As soon as he held Marius' gaze, it was easy to get inside the human's head. It was something all the vampires could do (he was particularly good at it), and it was rather handy when dealing with the prey. Now, however, Krolock was not attempting to control something he wished to devour.

"You never asked whether I love you, and you never will. You are absolutely convinced that I'm perfectly in love with you", he whispered, with that special voice he knew to be so very tempting for humans.

The young soldier's eyes turned glassy and faraway as the vampire forced his way through Marius' memories, taking with him what he didn't want the human remember. It was a little like picking flowers. Only, these were rather ugly flowers he was picking from the younger man's mind...

"Yes. You love me", corporal echoed quietly, ignorant of the deceit that had just transpired in the very realm of his mind. Slowly, his expression returned normal and the distant look in his eyes vanished. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"Everything is fine", Krolock said quietly, but he still held his lover's face between his hands.

_He wasn't going to lose this. Not quite yet._

"I can see that. Say... have I ever shown you what other things those Parisian girls taught me, other than how to dress in a corset? I can't really say they were my type, but you wouldn't believe the things they could do..."

As Marius bent down to kiss his throat and open his coat, Krolock felt like a little piece of his soul – if he still had such thing left – the last human part, was dying.

* * *

><p>Marius' panic attack, or tantrum – whatever was the right word for it – made a bit more sense later when Krolock thought about it. Somehow, the young soldier had attached himself to the Count, fallen in love and began to regard him as some sort of rock: a bench mark, like the soldier himself had said. From what Marius had told, Krolock knew his lover's life had been turbulent, unpredictable and erratic. Despite all his amazing adventures, there was loneliness and rootlesness gnawing at his soul. He had lost his family early in his life, and after that, there had been very few people who could claim the kind of emotional bond Marius wanted and needed. The way Marius saw it, there had not really been a place in this world for him. And the Count... he could not die, could not disappear into the shadows of death. Diseases would not take him, nor would other mortal perils. Was it truly a wonder that the human would become so dependent on his affection?<p>

That's what the young soldier had thought to find here, in the woods of Transylvania. He just was that desperate, like only a human could be, so that the moment he felt his castle of dreams had no base in reality, he panicked. In the end, like most creatures, Marius just wanted to be loved. And being the emotional sort of person he was, he reacted violently when he felt that this deep, aching need was threatened and questioned.

It was not something the young man could have explained himself, but Krolock had seen it when he had looked inside his lover's mind.

He might have hypnotized Marius into not asking whether he loved or not, but he wasn't sure that would be the end of it.

* * *

><p>Mostly, Krolock found himself almost content with his human around. It was sort of pleasant change for the usual solitude, and even though drinking blood remained the ultimate pleasure for a vampire, he was suddenly reminded of the release and satisfaction that was physical intimacy. It was certainly rather enjoyable when the other party was as enthusiastic as Marius.<p>

With his stories and light jests, Marius had a way of distracting Krolock from the melancholy. His high spirits, quite similar to Herbert's, were usually able to work their magic on the vampire. He always seemed to have a silly story or another ready, and soon the Count would find himself chuckling over the image of his human spying for his current master (a rich and jealous man), dressed as an one-eyed rabbi. Somehow, Marius had the ability of reviving something human in the Count.

There was even curious kind of alliance between his son and his lover. After that scene in the library, the Count had been rather certain the two would never get along, but that impression proved to be false. Many a night the two spent with Marius teaching Herbert with some card game from France, or just the human reciting all he could remember about what was currently fashionable in his home country. France, and Paris especially, were the centers of culture in Europe, and that made Marius Herbert's current favourite person. Also, somehow the human was able to make Herbert pick up his fencing lessons again – something the vampire had absolutely hated when he had been younger. The ancient vampires must have been holding their ears back in their graves when Marius and Herbert went on sparring all over the castle courtyard, shouting and occasionally quarreling like cats and dogs. If there was something the Count didn't rejoice about when it came to those fencing lessons, it was the amount of colourful words Marius was throwing at Herbert. Krolock wasn't sure he wanted his son knowing all those expressions.

And on larger scale, the two seemed to make it their common crusade to make Krolock smile with their jests, mischief and half-serious arguments. It was rather precious, although he never commented on it.

Still, Herbert never missed a chance to tease the human, as he seemed to find it especially amusing that Marius was his father's lover: "Doesn't that make you my step-mother?"

And with an insufferable grin, the vampire fled before the furiously blushing corporal.

In all, it was good. Better than Krolock would have expected... better than what he thought he deserved.

* * *

><p>It was probably because Marius rarely saw the other vampires than the Count and his son, and because he was so captivated by that image of the tragic and romantic figure that Krolock posed in his mind, but it wasn't until the young soldier saw Johannes feeding on a human that he really came to realize what being a vampire meant.<p>

It happened on one fresh spring evening, not long after the sun had gone down. Having been so absorbed in this little romance, Krolock had not fed in a while, and the man – a woodcutter – had cut himself. The open wound, the scent of fresh blood... it was too much for a hungry vampire. No matter how many years he lived, the insatiable greed still proved superior when compared to any reason he might have.

And so Marius found him in the entrance hall with the lifeless body of the woodcutter on his arms, his face stained by blood. Having been a vampire for couple hundred years now, a sight of one of his kind feeding was most normal and regular for Krolock: he could barely remember the fact that it must seem very horrifying for a human.

The young soldier was pale and still as he stood there, staring at the Count and the dead man in the vampire's arms.

"So this is what you do to live?" he asked, a tremor in his voice.

"I am a vampire. What did you expect?" Krolock asked, letting the dead body fall with a quiet _thud. _

"But you saved my life! You can't be a killer!" Marius shouted, desperate to find some way to negate what he was seeing.

"Every now and then, even killers have mercy. Vampires are killers by their very definition. Our existence is defined by taking lives to survive", the vampire pointed out. "Didn't those stories tell you this?"

"But... but... I thought..." the young man tried, and he seemed like he were in the verge of tears.

"Tell me, how very different am I from you? Didn't you make killing your profession too, before you came here?" Johannes asked, quiet and calm as he wiped the blood from his face.

"But that's entirely different thing! I'm a soldier – I'm supposed to kill!" Marius shouted back. The first traces of horror were already entering his mind, as he began to understand-

"How is it different?" Krolock asked nonchalantly.

"I'm not a soldier because I enjoy killing! I just... I had no other choice!"

"Do you think _I_ had choice? Do you believe I became a vampire because I wished it? I take lives for living, just as you are the same, Marius. Don't pretend your reasons for killing are somehow better than mine. War is just as lacking in the department of nobleness as the instinct to survive is", Johannes pointed out quietly. "No, we're not the same – not really. You have a choice. I don't."

"I don't... I didn't want..." his lover stammered.

"I didn't want this either. All I wished was to grow old with my wife, watch my son become a man, and die in my bed surrounded by my children and grandchildren... But this is the existence fate had in store for me, and I'm not going to apologize for things I have no control over", the Count said, his voice silent yet booming through the hall.

Marius stared at him, wide-eyed and so utterly horrified that he didn't even have words. Then the young soldier turned around and fled.

* * *

><p>In the end, Marius did come back to him. Quiet, eyes fixed on the floor, the young man came in and sat by his feet, and the vampire laid his hand on corporal's head. Krolock wasn't surprised: after all, in some completely insane way, he was Marius' bench mark. And it was a human thing to do, to forget and forgive, even the most impossible of things.<p>

For that, Johannes envied his young human lover more than he could ever have explained in words.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Here comes an update with a slightly shorter chapter this time. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Spring turned into one of the most beautiful summers Krolock had ever witnessed during his life. Last of the snows melt, and with the winter gone, the thick forests didn't seem as foreboding as they usually did during the darker months of the year. Not that darkness bothered him, but he could still see the appeal that it held for Marius. The world bloomed and even by nights, it was like you could still feel the warmth of summer sunbeams on your skin. The turn of seasons hardly held any amazement for Krolock anymore, but with the young soldier bouncing about in bouts of energy, he could almost feel like he was seeing the spring become summer for the very first time. Almost.

In the middle some rare spurt of tenderness – or perhaps aberration was the correct word – the Count picked up his human lover and stepped into the sky, vaguely amused by the young soldier's awed face and exhilarated laughter, and he carried him to see all those small forest pools and meadows far in the wilderness that no living soul knew nothing of. He taught Marius swim, showed the flourishing forests, spent hours upon hours just lying with him in the fluttering grass, until the chill of the night became too much for the human. Suddenly, he felt so very much younger – carefree and light as he had never been during his vampire life.

And his lover seemed to almot glow with happiness as they rolled around in the dew and full moon shone silver and white upon them. There was something magical about a summer meadow in moonlight, even Krolock felt so although years had mostly stripped him of the ability to feel any particular awe at such things.

"I didn't know such places even existed. Or that you would be the kind to care about them", Marius said one time, lying on his side and watching in quiet enthrallment the silent play of moonbeams and shadows upon the vampire's skin.

"I grew up roaming these forests. I know every tree and rock by its name", the Count answered, watching the starlit sky from under his half-opened eyelids. Two hundred years of nothing but nightsky and he still found he could marvel at its beauty. Marius gave a small, tender chuckle.

"What is it?" vampire asked.

"I was just trying to imagine you as a child. Did you always have such long hair?"

"No, not always. I stopped cutting it when my wife – we weren't married yet – said longer hair would suit me. After a while, I began to agree", Krolock mumbled. "Herbert inherited that fondness for my hair... some nights, if he succeeded in persuading me to read him a bedtime story, he would fall asleep on my lap with a handful of my hair in his fist..."

"You read bedtime stories for Herbert?" Marius said, grinning. "That is probably the sweetest thing I've heard in a while."

The vampire shrugged. "It made him happy. That was all that mattered."

"I rather like your hair too..." Marius smiled and kissed the older man's temple. "It was the first thing I noticed about you – your insufferably pretty hair."

Krolock snorted but couldn't help but feel vaguely pleased.

"The world must have been a very different place back then", the young soldier commented after short silence and ran his forefinger over the length of vampire's arm.

"In some ways, yes. Others, not so much. Humans seem the same as then", Krolock said quietly.

"What was your wife like?" Marius asked after a short silence. The vampire turned his head sharply.

"Why do you ask?" he demanded. The younger man bowed down to cast a calming kiss over his brow.

"I just... you seem to love her very much. Even now, when she's been dead for so long. And I'd like to know about things that are – or were – important to you", Marius said slowly. Krolock considered just telling his lover shut his mouth, but then again, what was the point of it? The soldier would only find another opportunity to bring it up again.

"She was... very beautiful. Herbert takes after her... he has her eyes and her hair. And she was so carefree, like he is... she always seemed to find something to smile and laugh about, even if she was going through a hard time. It was her spirits that kept me sane after I had been bitten. Because of her, I could fight it almost two months. Almost two entire months... She was some years younger than I and her father wasn't exactly happy to give his consent to our marriage, but my father was a very powerful man and made him accept. I had loved her from afar, never thinking she would be my wife one day or that she would even answer my feelings, but in the end she loved me just as much as I loved her... Our wedding day must have been one of the happiest days of my life", he spoke quietly, and even though the memory of her stung, there was also fondness about it, and he found himself smiling slightly.

"She sounds like a wonderful lady", the young soldier commented. "You still miss her?"

"Every night."

"I suppose it's not really something you get over or forget about... I don't know if my experiences even compare, but I know how it feels to long for someone you know you won't ever see again", corporal whispered and buried his face in the vampire's shoulder. The Count did not push him away – there was something oddly pleasant about the sensation.

"You remember your parents?" Marius asked after lying there silently for a while.

"I do", came the curt reply.

"What were they like?" the younger man asked.

"Always so full of questions, you are!" Krolock hemmed with slightly mocking tone and grabbed his lover's hands when Marius tried to shove his fist against the vampire's side. "I'll drop you in some pool, steal your clothes and force you to walk back naked if you do that again."

"What if I want you to-" the young soldier teased, but was quickly quieted.

* * *

><p>"Your parents. Tell me about them", Marius asked later when they were back at the castle and the young man was warming up at his usual spot by the fireplace.<p>

"So you're not going to stop pestering me, are you?" the vampire asked and picked a fallen leaf from his hair. He was finding all sorts of things from his hair these days, and knew how it infuriated Herbert. _"Have you no mercy for your hair, Vati? That looks horrible!"_

"Of course not. I've told everything about myself, but you rarely talk about yourself or your life... I want to know, Johannes. I want to know you better", the young man pleaded with those big, slightly glistening eyes; the Count was beginning to think that innocent expression wasn't quite so innocent as Marius would have him think. Corporal had obviously been taking lessons from Herbert.

"Fine, you inquisitive little nuisance", he muttered, rolling his eyes. Nevertheless, it wasn't easy not to smile at the happy face the human was making.

"My father was a harsh and joyless man – even more so than I am. But he was what he needed to be, like his father before him. I believe I take much after him... My mother, a sweet little creature she was, and some said too good for my father or this world. Sometimes Herbert reminds me a bit of her, although he's not quite as innocent as she were. She died when I was 10 years old", Krolock answered slowly.

"I know how that feels. I mean, I was about the same age when my mother died. Some sort of plague, they said", Marius whispered quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's no matter. It was long ago. Wherever she is, I'm sure it's a happier place than this", the vampire said and waved his hand to close the subject. Marius understood.

With a quiet little smile, he climbed up and sat on vampire's lap.

"Luckily for you, I know this one happy place too..."

And it was. It really was.

* * *

><p>"<em>Un, deux, trois... <em>maintain your position, Herbert! That's awful – you need to concentrate! Mind your footwork!"

"What's wrong with my position? I'm perfect at positions!"

"Because if you go swaggering around like that, I can easily do _this!" _

"Ow! That hurt! Why did you do that? Nevermind, it doesn't really matter – it's not going to kill me anyway!"

"Maybe not, but you'll never learn to do this properly if you don't listen to me!"

"Do you really think I care about proper?"

"Certainly not, you little beast! Here, take that!"

"Ouch! _Merde! _Vati is going to hear about this, and then you'll be in trouble!"

Krolock couldn't help a low chuckle at the sound of the two of them quarreling once again in the midst of a fencing lesson. Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, he watched the duo quietly, until Herbert threw his foil down and left the scene, fuming as he went. The two would make peace later – maybe when Herbert decided he was in a mood for learning the latest dances from Paris.

Quietly, the Count stalked over and picked up Herbert's abandoned foil.

"I don't think it's quite right that you never challenge me to cross swords with you", he pointed out and the young soldier turned around sharply, previously ignorant of his presence.

"Would it be proper for me to hurt your grace – and my lover?" the corporal asked, picking up his own foil again.

"My son being a viscount certainly never stopped you from hurting _him... _and you seem to be awfully certain that you would even be able to do me any harm", the Count said, lifting his eyebrows.

"Well, then show me what you can do", Marius taunted and lifted his blade.

At first, it was more like a dance than anything. But then, all the best sword fights were reminiscent of that in a way. The young soldier was young and vital and agile, but the vampire had same kind of lightness about his movements, and he had experience that had not faded with time. He had been good at this once, so long ago.

The human was flushed, with the beads of sweat covering his forehead as he parried the vampire's attacks. His breath was quick and his heart thrummed – the most delicious of sounds to vampire ears. Little by little, the Count began to force him back. Marius held his ground, though, and it really took effort to gain even the smallest advantage from him.

There was a scratch of foil against Marius' skin and one tiny drop of blood pushed itself through. In a matter of seconds, Johannes had abandoned his blade and leapt towards his human lover. The force of his flight threw the soldier down and only a moment later, the vampire's fangs were reaching for that particular vein in the neck.

Marius' hands were pushing back Krolock's shoulders and he couldn't quite reach his intended target. He kept snapping at it, though, and was only very vaguely aware of a growling sound coming from his throat – he had not lost control in that way for some time. The world was scarlet and hot and the urge to feed was so very strong, and it was only the young soldier's strength of arm that saved his life that day.

"Johannes! Johannes!"

The shouts pierced his consciusness and even though the hunger didn't quite leave, he had it under control again. Falling back, he held his breath so that the delicious smell of blood wouldn't drive him over again. His lover sat up, pale as a sheet and obviously rather shaken. One probably ought to be after someone they trusted attacked in such manner.

"I need to feed", Krolock rasped and staggered up on his feet. "Dress that wound immediately."

Without any further word, the vampire left.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I return with a shorter chapter this time. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

It was late when Krolock returned. Dawn was near and as he passed by his lover's bedchamber, all he could hear was the quiet snoring of a sleeping human. He wasn't sure if it was because he didn't want to disturb Marius or because he feared what might happen if the young soldier woke up, but he didn't step inside and crawl beside his human. Instead, he joined Herbert in crypt.

"So nice to have you here for a chance. You come here so rarely these days", his son commented, sounding rather displeased. Not that was so very odd: ever since Herbert had been turned, the crypt had been their shared resting place. There had always been something comforting in waking up to Herbert's bustling. Obviously it meant just as much for his son as it did for him.

"I am sorry. I seem to have been... distracted", the Count said quietly, more wearily than he had intended. He had gorged himself with blood, and now he was feeling more tired than in a long time, with the weariness creeping down to his very bones. Herbert's pout turned into a concerned face.

"Something wrong, Vati?" the younger vampire asked, grabbing his father's hand in his own. The boy had always been more prone to touching than the Count, but he didn't mind.

"It is fine. I merely need rest", Krolock said, not meeting his son's eyes.

"Did something happen with your human?" Herbert asked.

"I tried to kill him. There was blood."

The viscount's eyes widened and he hugged his father like he always would if he felt his father was somehow vulnerable. Right now, the Count was too tired to pull on his brave face, so he just let his son do as he pleased.

"But you didn't succeed?"

"I didn't. He was able to hold me back", the Count muttered and brushed a weary hand across his face. His son gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"He'll be fine. He'll understand. You _are _a vampire, after all. Marius knows that – he won't mind", Herbert assured as he gently pushed his father towards the great stone sarcophagus.

"Yes. Let us hope so."

* * *

><p>It was raining outside – one of those summer drizzles that almost feel lighter than air on your skin. Johannes was idly remembering one time when he and his wife, not long after their wedding, had been caught in such weather. She had been soaked to the skin, her tresses clinging to her head and face. He had shielded her under his cloak and she had moaned that she must look terrible.<p>

"_You've never looked more beautiful", _he had said. And he had meant it. Somehow he felt it was that day when Herbert had been conceived. His son of summer rain...

Light steps distracted the Count from his memories of that summer long gone. The scent of blood was very faint now, not enough to overthrow his control. He didn't turn around, however. Instead, he stood there, waiting for the human to do or say something – anything.

"Are you all right?" came the question at last. It was certainly not what he had expected, although he wasn't quite sure what his expectations had been in the first place. With Marius, he had learned to expect the unexpected.

"I'm quite fine. What of yourself?" Krolock asked, still not turning to face his lover.

"Fine as you are", the young man said quietly. Finally, the Count turned around. Marius was standing there, somehow very forlorn. "You didn't come to me."

"I wasn't sure you wanted me there", Johannes answered. The weight of years was heavy on his shoulders – heavier than in a long time. He should probably have expected it. Someone of his age should know that summer, no matter how magical and carefree, always came to an end.

Marius lowered his gaze, and for a moment, silence hung there, crushing at its weight.

"I am a vampire, and I always will be. Nothing can change that. And I will hunger for your blood. You will never be quite safe here. All it takes is a single scratch..." Krolock pointed out. Maybe he should have explained this all long ago. But then, he had not really been thinking when he had plunged into this madness.

"I know that. I'm not scared – I never was. Not even in the beginning. I trust you", the soldier said, as bravely as only a young human could.

"You still trust me? After you saw me lose control? You know, that can happen again any time", the vampire pointed out.

"I know that. But I also trust myself. I'm not a child – I can take care of myself. And you. I'll just fight you back if I need to", Marius answered, confident and sure. Oh, to be that self-assured...

Krolock wanted to point out that the young soldier barely knew what he was talking about, that he couldn't be sure he would always be able to defend himself, but realized it was of no use. Marius was too headstrong, too convinced of what he considered the truth. Marius wanted and needed his bench mark and to question it would only result in tears.

So he gave up and let his lover have this notion of invincibility. It wasn't like he himself had never experienced such thing... and maybe, if he let himself believe this fairy tale Marius had conjured... maybe it would come true.

The young soldier wrapped his arms around him and lulled himself back into that content little dream they had been having under the summer moon. But Krolock gazed outside and watched as the soft drizzle grew cold and harsh.

The summer was almost over.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Here's an update. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

The wind was not gentle as it blew and rushed over the lands, with the first bite of coming autumn on its wings, but inside the castle, it was cozy and snuggle. Not that Krolock would have used such words – they were Herbert-like expressions of things.

After attacking Marius, the vampire never quite knew if they were back to that light, dreamy kind of state where world seemed far away and the lazy hours between touches and caresses expanded as vast as an eternity, yet short and fleeting at the same time. Such things rarely existed in the real world, however, and on their first manifestation, their days were already numbered.

And then there was the restlessness. Sometimes, when he thought Johannes wasn't watching, Marius would look outside with longing in his eyes. It was not realistic to expect someone like him be content in staying still for long. It was another thing the vampire should have seen coming yet hadn't for the sake of being so blinded by this sudden starfall that was Marius.

Corporal Marius Belrose wasn't going to last forever. Some day, sooner or later, the restlesness would become too much and then he would leave. And Krolock wasn't going to stop his lover from going. He could have changed the young man and make him stay, but for some reason, the mere thought of that option felt horrid.

It was then, when he quietly watched his human lover gaze outside, that he knew Marius would be gone by spring.

Silently, he began to prepare himself for that time when it would be just him and Herbert again. It wasn't a scary thought – he had lived it for two hundred years and knew he would survive somehow. If he had been able to survive becoming a vampire and killing his own wife, he could take this. Yet the thought of dark was not as easy to bear as it had been before. Somehow, he had rather liked to warm his cold fingers in the light of starfall.

He never talked about it to his lover. He did consider trying to turn the young man's mind when the time came, or perhaps try to prevent it beforehand, give something worth staying for. Then again, he wasn't one to beg or plead.

He had not promised love, and he wasn't going to ask for it himself.

* * *

><p>It all came down to a broken ankle. Curious thing it was, how the greatest of changes sometimes depended on smallest of occurences.<p>

For a soldier, Marius could be surprisingly messy young man. The state of his attire sometimes almost drove Herbert crazy, and the way he always left things – pieces of paper, sketches, books, pens, clothes – lying around certainly infuriated Géza. Only calming gestures or brisk commands from the Count would stop the deaf man from grabbing the young sholdier and giving him a good (and potentially injuring) shake.

But in the end, maybe he should have allowed the servant to give Marius that spanking Géza so fondly dreamed of. If he had, maybe Marius wouldn't have left the carpet at the top of certain stairs all rolled and bundled after running upstairs to get his deck of cards. He would have straightened it and gone about his way, and Géza, who was carrying a pile of laundry, would never have tripped on it.

The deaf man fell down the stairs and it was a miracle he didn't broke anything else besides his ankle. Moments later, Krolock found his servant in mute pain by the bottom of the staircase, the man's face twisted and his ankle swelling under his hands. If there was anything good about the situation, it was that at least there wasn't any blood.

"Marius! Come here!" the Count called. As Marius had been a soldier, he hoped that the young man might know how to set a broken bone.

The corporal came running, as he always did when Krolock called him by his name.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" he inquired as his eyes fell on Géza.

"Géza seems to have broken his ankle. I was hoping maybe you might be able to help", Krolock said, lifting his injured servant carefully.

"I'm not sure... I wasn't exactly a medic..." Marius answered doubtfully, dashing at the servant's side to help him stand up.

"At least help me carry him to the kitchen", the vampire ordered and together they carried the deaf man to the mostly unused kitchen. Herbert appeared from nowhere too, bustling about as was his wont in situations like this. He even found some ice from last winter somewhere to be put on the broken ankle – how Herbert managed these things, Krolock never knew. The boy's mother had been exactly the same.

"Well, I guess I should at least take a look at it. But I don't promise I can help", Marius said finally and felt the servant's ankle as carefully as he could. Géza grimaced but didn't make a sound.

The vampires stood silent as the young soldier inspected Géza's foot. Herbert was nibbling at a strand of his hair – a habit he had battled most of his life but which often manifested when he was worried.

"Well?" Krolock asked after a moment, impatient.

"I don't think the bone is dislocated. If you dress it properly, it should be just fine", Marius said finally, although his uncertain face didn't really do much to reassure the Count.

"You're sure about this?" Krolock asked, staring sternly at the human. His lover fidgeted for a moment.

"I... I don't know", the young soldier finally confessed, lowering his gaze.

"A lot good that did, then", Krolock said, more harsh than he had intended. "Why did he fall, anyway? Géza isn't that clumsy."

The servant's eyes sought his master's gaze – he could read from the lips just fine even if he was deaf. He patted his forehead, a familiar invitation to read his mind, and read Krolock did. After couple of minutes, the Count's eyes shot at Marius, cold and accusing.

"You should learn to clean up your mess. I will not have my servants tumbling around because of your carelessness!" he snapped and before the blushing soldier could answer, the vampire turned to his son.

"I'm taking him to the village and have someone qualified take a look at him. Go prepare the horses", he ordered and Herbert hurried off to do as was told. Krolock would have preferred flying, but he didn't think he would get much help from the village if he appeared flying and carrying his servant on his back.

It wasn't from the goodness of his heart that he wished to help his servant – he usually drank them dead when the moment came they couldn't serve him anymore. However, Géza was still young, with many good years of servitude ahead him, and it wasn't easy to find as efficient servant as he was. Life as a vampire's servant was not something you chose if you had other options.

When the horses were ready, Herbert and the Count lifted the wincing Géza up on the saddle. Then he mounted his own horse – a wiry old thing, since investing in horses had become mostly unnecessary after he had become a vampire – and gathered the reins in his hands.

Marius was beside him, embarrasment colouring his cheeks. The soldier touched the Count's thigh just slightly, as if he was scared the vampire would snap at him, or bite his head off. The prospect was somewhat tempting.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble", Marius tried, sad and forlorn, but this time his glistening eyes did not work.

"Of course you didn't!" Johannes retorted. "But I'd still have your head if there was time for that."

"Johannes..." the human called.

"I'll deal with you later", Krolock answered and urged his horse to move. The animal neighed and started for the gate.

If the Count had known what would come to pass, he might have chosen his words differently.

* * *

><p>In the village, there lived a man named Mihai. Temperamental man he was, and full of ideas and superstitions. Like anyone in the village, he knew the stories about the castle nearby. It wasn't something that was talked about, yet it was something everyone knew.<p>

There was the unspoken pact, however. The castle would not bother the village too much and the disappearings would stay minimal. In exchange, the village didn't speak of the castle, certainly not to any visitors, and they would give everything that was asked to the deaf man who came every now and then to gather food and other supplies. They would even get some precious coin for their troubles from time to time. It was a good deal, people thought. Mihai didn't agree.

It was his notion, although he was alone with it, that the castle should be there no more. It should be purged and the things inside it destroyed. He should lead the expedition, and he should be the one to place _his _head on a pike – if there would be such thing left once the creature would be dead. Also, he would be the one to collect whatever riches there were behind those walls. It wasn't often that the villagers saw _him, _the creature that ruled the castle, but they said _he_ always came well-dressed and fine as a king. Where there was a dragon, there was also gold.

Mihai had plans and visions, and on that chilly autumn evening he seemed to finally have his chance: for once, the deaf man did not come alone. This time _he, _the ghastly long-haired devil was riding down from his nest of darkness.

He watched as the creature – he wouldn't call _it _a man – stopped its horse by the inn and helped down the deaf servant. Dressed all in black, with a pillowing cape, and bony hands with nails like talons... Pale as moon it was, just as the stories went: no blood under that white skin, and no life either.

After the creature had went inside with his servant, Mihai called his friends and took his knife. He tried the sharp blade and smiled. It was ready. _He _was ready.

* * *

><p>The local midwife was a capable and experienced woman. She had helped half of the village's population into the world, but she also made it her profession to care for their maladies and injures. In this distant village, far from the big cities and towns, women like her sometimes gathered such knowledge to themselves.<p>

It seemed that luck was with Krolock that day, as the woman was actually sitting in the inn as he helped his injured servant inside. She was happy enough to help; being a practical, no-nonsense woman that she was, she never rejected a patient in the need of her help, never paying attention to any gossips or ghost tales.

So she began inspecting Géza's broken ankle and confirmed that the bone wasn't dislocated. When she was preparing to dress it, a young boy came to the Count and bowed deep.

"Your grace, there's people outside who ask you", the boy said, timid and fearful.

"And what do they want of me?" Krolock asked, scanning the boy up and down.

"I don't know. They told me to come and get you. They want to have a word with you", the boy whispered, his voice trembling. Not thinking about it twice, the vampire stepped outside.

Six men, there were, and instinctively Krolock's hand went to his hip, to search for the blade that wasn't there. He didn't need to be a vampire to sense the danger here.

Six men, and he was unarmed. Fangs and nails, he might be able to take down two or three – with a blade, he could have taken down all of them, or at least given the required lesson of keeping one's nose off his business.

Krolock's gaze focused on the man in the middle. He wasn't tall exactly, but he was robust, with huge arms and wide shoulders. The belligerent expression told everything the vampire needed to know. He would be the most dangerous one, as was the knife in his hands.

"I hear you wish to have a word with me", the Count called out, folding his arms casually over his chest. Maybe there was a way out of this... he needed to stay calm and focused.

"I do, you monster. Actually, I've wished to have a word with you for some time now", the man barked. Krolock lifted his eyebrows.

"Really? If that is so, why haven't you visited me before? The location of my home shouldn't be a mystery to you", he pointed out lightly. "Also, I believe that the proper adress when referring to a count is 'your grace' or 'your excellency', not 'you monster'."

Mihai's face turned red.

"You're only a count to your flock of abominations!" he shouted and stepped forward.

"Where are your manners, good man? You really shouldn't listen to the old wives' tales", Krolock said, calm and collected. He flexed his nails, feeling the bloodlust and need to defend himself rise – red-hot and furious. He had never liked being defied, and after becoming a vampire, his tolerance for it had become even weaker.

"You lie! Everyone here knows what you are! We know the stories are true! I've seen your victims myself!" Mihai barked.

They were gathering an audience now, Krolock noticed. Maybe this foolish man wouldn't attack if he could somehow win the village on his side... He needed to stay calm and keep his fangs hidden.

"And which stories those might be? Truly, if one was to believe everything one hears, then it would appear that I can fly, the French have conquered China, and we are to be ruled by an emperor who is nine feet tall!" the Count said lightly, succeeding to even rouse some laughter.

"You can mock me all you want, but we'll see who's right in the end!" Mihai shouted. He pulled something from behind his back. "If you're as innocent as you claim, then tell me – can you look upon the Holy Cross?"

With that one gasp and the shielding arm over his eyes at the sight of a cross, Krolock revealed himself.

_Herbert. I need your help. _

And just when Mihai came rushing at him, he saw Marius' face.

"Johannes!"


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Here comes the chapter 9, where our story is drawing nearer its end. Enjoy (if you can)!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

The broken piece of knife's blade was there, just by his heart. Not close enough to kill, but it was only a matter inches – he could feel it resting against his heart. It was close enough to paralyze him, to pull him into a sort of semi-darkness where he sensed and saw things but didn't really make the necessary connections in order to make any sense of it. He hadn't known such thing could happen to one of his kind.

He didn't remember what had happened or how he came to be in his old bedchamber. Only thing he could muster were faces and unintelligible noises around him, and the coldness of the blade being buried in his flesh. As he fell back, he could just barely see a face he should probably have recognized... shouting obsceneties as the owner of that face drove his blade through the short, robust man's heart.

There was a flash of blond hair, and Krolock fell in the dark.

He came around some time later. People were arguing somewhere near him and they were talking about someone named "Vati" or "him". "Dead" was a word that was featured too.

"_... can't do it... it's too deep... near the heart... might kill him..." _

"_... all I've left..."_

"_... lost too much blood..." _

"_... can't lose him... your fault..." _

None of it seemed to matter much, so he just let it drift by. He wasn't in pain, to be exact; the piece of blade was somewhat uncomfortable, but it didn't really bother him because he couldn't move at all. It was almost like a tiny heart of metal inside him, radiating coldness. It was the exactly opposite to that feel when one fed on blood. Instead of all-encompassing warmth spreading over Krolock and reaching even the tips of his fingers, he could feel the coldness expanding until it felt like it wasn't inside him anymore, but also around him...

So he let himself drift and he might have even fallen unconscious, he didn't know. It all was so very unclear and incomprehensible...

His attention was sparked when the face – the one he thought he recognized – appeared just over him. Green eyes were there, and some distant part of him wanted to reach back. But it was of no use, as he couldn't move, couldn't understand, couldn't speak.

"I'll bring you back. I promise. I won't let you die", the voice whispered, just by his ear, and suddenly... warmth! All over his lips, his cheeks... He wanted to move and embrace that warmth, because it was so much more pleasant than the coldness radiating inside him... The delicious warmth and silkiness over his lips were familiar – he had known them before, and he wanted to, again...

But the sensation was gone then... no, not gone, but moved, over to his chest, near where the coldness was.

All of a sudden, everything was white and pain. It was cold, yet not the usual kind – it was cold that _burned. _If he could have moved, he would have, would have attacked and fought and injured so very terribly the one who dared to cause him such pain. And then the white-hot metal was moving inside him and he was vaguely aware of shouting _– his own voice – _and something was placed between his teeth, and the burning cold tore at his flesh as it was moving... no, it was _being pulled. _

Then it was gone. The piece of blade was pulled out, he could move again, and all that was left was all-encompassing hunger, the insatiable greed.

And there, just over him, was a living creature with its body full of life and blood.

In one eye-blink, he had spit his mouth empty, yanked the body towards him, and sank his teeth into the hot flesh of the one who had just saved his life.

* * *

><p>His wits returned some time later. The first thing Krolock realized was that there was no more pain or that throbbing coldness deep inside him. Rather, he was feeling quite content and even slightly warm, as he usually did only after drinking blood.<p>

Actually, it was so pleasant he might even have fallen into unconsciousness again: he was well-fed, and the familiar scent of his human was just nearby. For some reason, Marius was lying on the top of him. He must have worn the young man down again and the poor thing had fallen asleep without even bothering to move to his own side of the bed. He would have to explain again that he didn't really care for such cuddling...

The first thing he noticed to be wrong was the temperature. Usually, when Marius was that near, Krolock could feel the human's body radiating with warmth and life. Yet now it was just the blood inside him that kept the usual coolness at bay.

Then there was the smell. It was not right, not at all: the edge, _the bite _of a living human's scent was... missing. It wasn't there. Instead, there was the smell of... _death. _Death, and slow decay that came to all things.

And the human was so very _still. _There was not the usual rise and fall of breathing, or the hypnotizing sound of quietly thudding heart. It was just quiet and cold.

It finally hit him when Krolock saw Marius' neck. There weren't just two tiny wounds – the young man's throat had been mauled and ripped apart, and the flesh had been torn into ribbons. Yet there was no blood, not one drop. The human had been sucked dry, and by none else than his vampire lover himself.

Marius was dead.

Trembling as he did so, Krolock gathered his dead human in his arms, cradling the lifeless head against himself. The lips, so warm and soft when they had last kissed him, were now unmoving and icy. He had not known he was still able to feel like this, that he could even care...

"Marius... Marius..."

"_I love you."_

For the first time since his wife had died, he wept.


	10. Epilogue

**A/N: **Here we are, at the story's end. Thanks for all who took time to read this, and hopefully you enjoyed as much as I did!

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

Marius had told him there was no one waiting for him back in France. Everyone he had known and loved were gone or forgotten: no one would ever wonder what had come of the young soldier with the eyes to make the maidens weep. Perhaps some Parisian girl that had taught him so fantastic things would sometimes sit and idly think of him... then again, probably not. Cruel irony was that the one who had had such joy for the living, the one with such love and caring, would only be mourned by a weary old vampire.

He did not bury Corporal Marius Belrose in his own family graveyard or in the crypt, but on one particular hill not far from his home. He felt that the shadows of the castle were ill suited for someone like the young man had been. On the hill, there was a great, ancient pine growing there, and it looked over one of those magical little meadows. The place of the grave not far from _her. _The Count felt shewouldn't have minded it much – as a matter of fact, she might even have liked the young soldier.

Herbert was there with him, of course, just as the younger vampire had been from that night when the human had died. They were the only funeral procession Marius would ever have, and it was a shame: a man like him would have deserved hundreds of people mourning on his grave. Yet here he was in this distant land, far away from the land of his forefathers, murdered and buried by a vampire.

Herbert never seemed to be very far, yet there was no fussing about what he did. The viscount never gazed at the Count like he there was something wrong, and he never asked if he wished something to be done. Herbert knew he would tell him if the older vampire wished so. The Count was thankful.

Vampires rarely loved. But when they did, it went deep.

The mound seemed small and pitiful, not far from the gravestone of Countess von Krolock. _He would need a stone of his own. _Marius might not have any living kin left in this world, but the Count wanted his burial place marked and remembered. Even if the two of them would be the only ones remembering. It was a human gesture and perhaps foolish, he knew, but he felt Marius would have appreciated it.

The night was chilly and the stars were behind a curtain of clouds as the vampires stood silent. Somewhere, Herbert had found flowers and he placed the small garland there on the mound. He touched the newly-turned ground gently, his long fingers lingering on soil.

"Sleep well then, step-mother. I was glad to have you", he whispered. After a moment, he straightened up and glanced at his father, wondering if the older vampire had anything to say. But Krolock stood silent, staring at some place far only he could see. Herbert let him linger and took his hand in his own, giving it a slight squeeze.

"I'm sorry, Vati", he whispered at last and finally, his voice betrayed the fear, the worry and sorrow over his father's grief. Brave and precious boy he was, always trying to take care of his father.

"It's all right. It's not your fault", Krolock answered quietly.

"But if I had..." Herbert tried, but his words were cut short as the older vampire turned to face him.

"No, son. Let it be."

All Herbert needed to know was there, written on the lined and weary face of his father. He didn't try to smile, but he did embrace the older vampire.

"Let's go home", Herbert whispered, took his Vater's hand, and without looking back, led him away from the grave at summer's end.

_FIN. _


End file.
